was a man I'd give you
something for this.'

Jim put on his hat and went out, slamming the door, while the woman
shouted after him: 'Good riddance!'

* * * * *

'Lord love yer,' said Mrs. Kemp, 'wot is the matter?'

She had just come in, and opening the door had started back in
surprise at seeing Liza on the bed, all tears. Liza made no answer,
but cried as if her heart were breaking. Mrs. Kemp went up to her and
tried to look at her face.

'Don't cry, dearie; tell us wot it is.'

Liza sat up and dried her eyes.

'I am so un'appy!'

'Wot 'ave yer been doin' ter yer fice? My!'

'Nothin'.'

'Garn! Yer can't 'ave got a fice like thet all by itself.'

'I 'ad a bit of a scrimmage with a woman dahn the street,' sobbed out
Liza.

'She 'as give yer a doin'; an' yer all upset--an' look at yer eye! I
brought in a little bit of stike for ter-morrer's dinner; you just cut
a bit off an' put it over yer optic, that'll soon put it right. I
always used ter do thet myself when me an' your poor father 'ad
words.'

'Oh, I'm all over in a tremble, an' my 'ead, oo, my 'ead does feel
bad!'

'I know wot yer want,' remarked Mrs. Kemp, nodding her head, 'an' it so
'appens as I've got the very thing with me.' She pulled a medicine
bottle out of her pocket, and taking out the cork smelt it. 'Thet's
good stuff, none of your firewater or your methylated spirit. I don't
often indulge in sich things, but when I do I likes to 'ave the best.'

She handed the bottle to Liza, who took a mouthful and gave it her
back; she had a drink herself, and smacked her lips.

Thet's good stuff. 'Ave a drop more.'

'Na,' said Liza, 'I ain't used ter drinkin' spirits.'

She felt dull and miserable, and a heavy pain throbbed through her
head. If she could only forget!

'Na, I know you're not, but, bless your soul, thet won' 'urt yer.
It'll do you no end of good. Why, often when I've been feelin' thet
done up thet I didn't know wot ter do with myself, I've just 'ad a
little drop of whisky or gin--I'm not partic'ler wot spirit it is--an'
it's pulled me up wonderful.'

Liza took another sip, a slightly longer one; it burnt as it went down
her throat, and sent through her a feeling of comfortable warmth.

'I really do think it's doin' me good,' she said, wiping her eyes and
giving a sigh of relief as the crying ceased.

'I knew it would. Tike my word for it, if people took a little drop of
spirits in time, there